The Monster
by 8pain
Summary: This is a remake of the original story told by someone as if the events have already happened. It was meant to be a horror story, but may not be as scary as I would have liked This is a very dark story and does contain abuse, and death. However, it is not very graphic and could be rated as a high "t", but just to be safe I'm giving it an "M".


**I do not own the story Little Red Riding Hood, and perhaps it is better that way.**

Of course I shall tell you a story, but although it may be called fictitious, I assure you that it is all true. Have you ever heard the tail of Little Red Riding Hood? No, don't say you have, the story you've been told was a tweaked into a child's bed time story. The truth is much more brutal, and much more real than anyone would like to admit. Even myself.

The girl was brought up by a single mother, and on the sidelines a grandmother. She did not know of a father, and every time she inquired about him the haunted eyes of her mother kept her from pestering any more. Still she yearned for someone who would love her, a protector from all harm, a true father. But all she knew is that her own mother wouldn't tolerate such an idea, and was very strict about keeping her daughter away from anyone of the opposite gender. She frequently told the girl that all men were villains, and not to trust any of them.

However, as much as her mother told her of men's horrible acts, her mother was not entirely good herself. She could not stand the slightest degree of faults that her daughter had. Even so much as slouching was given harsh physical punishment. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if the girl had some confident of her life, but there was none. If the girl thought that her mother was strict, than her grandmother must surely be a dictator. By the time she was ten, she had so many marks from the both of them that the scars blended into each other. A macabre quilt on her maiden flesh. Because of this the other village children never played with her, and so she was always in the company of her mother or grandmother.

She strove to be a good girl. No, the best girl. Soon her mother took notice that she was never out of line, never raised her voice too high, and never walked too quickly. So as a gift her mother gave her a red hooded shawl. It matched her scares so well that the children of the village would taunt her. Often calling her "Little Red Riding Hood" as she would walk by.

The village children weren't the only ones who knew how foul a gift the girl had. Red was a symbol of a very great sin. The adults would cast her suspicious glances, and whisper to each other when she passed by. However the girl was not entirely clueless of what this gift was. Her mother had raised her to know about sin, and evil. To know every detail of what was wrong, and what was expected of her to be a very good girl. This "gift" not only stung, but brought a taste of bile in the girl's mouth every time she wore it. Just the thought of it covering her body sickened the girl. Yet she never left home without it, since only a bad girl would leave such a gift behind.

Eventually the girl got older, a blossoming lady that could cause any man to take a second look. This troubled the girl, because every time a man would look at her again he would note in finer details the scars that tore across her skin. Their frowns seemed to say _if only her figure was on a fairer model. _So she often took greater care to walk slower so her red shawl would never sway too far back. Sometimes her mother would make sure that the shawl blew open a bit, displaying the girls old punishments as a reminder of what was truth.

Then one day the girl had to deliver a basket of goods to her grandmother's house. Of course her mother made sure that she wore the red shawl. The girl was expected to stay off the forest path, and only to follow the carefully laid cobble stone. This shouldn't have been too hard for the girl to do, but that day it seemed as if every villager was traveling the road. Everyone seemed to be casting her sly looks, and after a while all of it was too much. When the road forked, she left into the forest's path.

Her mind did cry out against it, so much so that she was sick. She didn't want to be a bad girl, she didn't want any more punishments, and she didn't want to endure her grandmother. Thankfully there was a rain water pond she was able to wash up at. As she finished she gazed up past her reflection, and into the refection of something far more sinister. She saw a monster, or rather the reflection of the monsters crimson red eyes that were so obviously fixated on her red shawl. A smile broke out on its terrible face, and as she turned to gaze at the beast her blood froze. It was a dark force of nature, so obviously impossible to kill. It was almost unthinkable that such a terrifying being could exist in the world.

Yet it did not open is sharped toothed maw and devour her, nor did it attempt to harm her. Instead its entire being was readily focused on her shawl. It hesitantly staggered closer, and then even closer, until its breath rolled against her face. Then slowly it reached out and stroked her hood with its claws, then her hair, then her face, and then her dress. The girl trembled, but didn't cry out, didn't complain. She did nothing to stop the monster, but was submissive before its will. Eventually it stopped and walked away into the shadows of the forest, leaving her trembling and much too aware of what was truly evil in the world. She tried to stand, but fell to the ground.

She laid there, feeling useless, and weak. Then the monster came back. In its mouth was a dead venison. It dropped the animal before her, and proceeded to tear it apart in front of her. The smell of blood and death caused her to attempt at crawling away, but the effort was entirely futile. The monster drug her back and then pushed a portion of the raw meat into her mouth. She gagged and tried to spit it out, but as it tightened its hold on her arm, she found that it was possible to eat the bloody meat. Once the monster was satisfied at the amount she choked down, it too fed. However, it was not small simple bites, but a wild frenzy of tearing and bestial chomping sounds. Once it was done it gathered the girl beside itself, and fell asleep.

The girl waited until its breath was slow and peaceful against her before she started to crawl out of its arms. It was a slow and laboring process. She battled with her desire to just break free of its grasp, but reason told her that worse things would happen if it woke up in the midst of her escape. However, before she was entirely free, the monster moved its arm, trapping her red shawl. A dilemma now came before her, should she let go of the red shawl, or try to take it with her? How bad would she be to leave it, how bad would it be to never have to feel its oppressive material covering her like a second skin. Biting her lip she pulled off the horrid thing and left.

The sun was nearly gone, and she craved nothing more than shelter filled with humans. Her stomach squeezed and she was sick again. This time she did not take time to wash. She left the basket by the monster, and trembling walked towards her grandmother's house in her torn and sullied dress. Sometimes she would fall and cut herself, leaving a spot of blood behind her. Other times she would forget the true horror that had happened and walked steadily until she would hear the wind blow through the trees and think that it wasn't wind, but the monster that was above her.

When she finally made it to her grandmother's house it was so dark that she felt like she was in some kind of abyss. Carefully she knocked on the door, as she barely remembered to do, and then entered. The cabin was almost completely dark, but in the fire place a few embers still burned. Quietly she pulled two logs out from beneath the stove, and fed them to the fire. It took a moment, but soon the fire leaped up. The bright orange and red danced upon its food, casting shadows all over the room. The girl was over taken by the memory of those horrible red eyes looming over her, and let out a strangled scream. Her grandmother awoke from her bed, and upon seeing the state her granddaughter was in fumed.

The old lady grabbed the girl by the hair, and forced her in front of the fire. She tore at the back of the girls dress and exposed her back to the warm cabin air. The girl struggled to tell her grandmother what had happened, to truly expose the horrors of the woods, but she was only a submissive girl. She didn't have the knowledge of how to defend herself. So she silently cried as her punishment was carried out. Every burning coal laid on her back caused her body to flinch, her hands clawing at the wooden floor, and teeth clenched waiting for the pain to pass. Eventually her grandmother grew tired of punishing her and told her to wash up.

The girl dragged herself to the water basin in the guest room, dipped her finger into the warm water, and carefully let droplets fall down her back. She had been lucky that her grandmother had not let the coals stay in the fire longer, otherwise there would be a greater number of blisters, and a greater amount of pain. As the night bore on she got used to the feeling of having a burned back and walked to the guest room. Her clothes were soiled and she let them fall to the floor. Carefully she washed away the forest dirt, and picked out the leaves and twigs from her hair.

The only other dress she could wear was from a time when she was much, much smaller, and had the body of a child. It was too short to be decent, too tight to be comfortable, and tore completely in a few other places, but compared to wearing her soiled rag of a dress it was heaven. Her bed was not soft, for is was made of old straw, but it was better than laying on the forest floor, and so she closed her eyes for sleep. But she was unable to find solace in the dark, because it was just like the forest's darkness; and abyss.

A terrible roar shook the cottage, and she awoke with great alarm. The monster was outside the cottage. She trembled in the bed as it howled in rage, cried as the door was ripped open, and shook as she heard the terrible sounds of it tearing apart her grandmother. The monsters footsteps could be described as nothing but thuds, and she laid on her stomach trembling as the monster came closer. It forcefully yanked her off the bed, and crouched above her, blood and flesh dropped from its snarling face. Forcefully it dragged its blood covered claws into the wood by her head, and she whimpered, squeezing her eyes closed.

She wanted to deny what was going on, but there was no peace for her. The monster pulled her onto the bed, wrapped her in the red hooded shawl she had earlier abandoned, and held her in its arms the rest of the night. When she awoke to the sounds of bird trilling from trees, and the trees responding by waving in the cold wind, she could still feel the possessive hold of the monster. There was no doubt in her mind that she belonged to it now. She rolled over and buried her head into its massive chest and just breathed in its smell.

Perhaps she wondered if it would be any better living with the monster, than living with her mother. Perhaps she dreaded her future, and trembled a bit, only to stop when the monster held her tighter. Or perhaps she smiled into its chest, and gently tilted her head to place a kiss on its jaw, completely insane, and grateful to be rescued from her awful life.

It would be impossible to know what her thoughts were at that moment. For who else has been passed from monster to monster all their life? All that is known is that when a woodsman saw them leaving the cottage in the morning he desperately tried to kill the beast, but was killed instead. Yet during the heated fight the girl did not try to escape. Instead she waited until the beast was finished mangling the man's body and let the monster take her deeper into the forest. Then when the monster felt at peace she let it hold and caress her. She would gratefully eat from its hand for the rest of her days, and take great care at preserving the color and material of the red hooded shawl.


End file.
